


Churrascaria & Cachaça

by TheMusicalHermit



Series: Tumblr Transfers [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 00:52:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13869603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMusicalHermit/pseuds/TheMusicalHermit
Summary: Lúcio pressed his lips together in a vain attempt to hide his smile. “So, what, this is your way of asking me on a date?”“Nah.” Junkrat scratched his nose with his thumb as he moved to sit beside him. “Well, technically yes, but I’m really kinda hoping I've guessed the right answer. ‘Cause it’d be fucking daft if I climbed a, what, thirty storey building only ta be told ‘ah nah, mate, soz, but I don’t go for gangly derros’ or something like that.”





	Churrascaria & Cachaça

**Author's Note:**

> Transferred from my Tumblr and edited slightly.
> 
> A Valentine's Day gift for PonPomf. There are some references to a story idea that I was kicking around for these two, but due to real life commitments I cannot work on more than two lengthy stories at once.

“Oh, hey there, Lúcio!”

Lúcio jumped, his hand coming away from his eyes as he sat up straighter, feeling the cold concrete rasp against his thick wooly jumper. His mouth dropped open as he surveyed the tall Australian levering himself up over the edge of the hotel’s flat roof.

“J-Jamison,” he shouted, running over to help him. “What are you doing!”

Junkrat’s peg leg squeaked and scrabbled the side of the building as he grunted, pushing a bulging sack over lip of the roof. “Climbing. Whatzit look like?”

Rolling his eyes, Lúcio pulled the bag away and grabbed the man by the lapels of his jacket. “I meant what are you doing climbing a roof. How did you even —”

“Well what’re you doing sitting on a roof an’ playing at Nigel No Mates on a night like this?” Junkrat’s laugh was absorbed by the slide of gravel as Lúcio pulled him to safety by his belt. “What, that agent o’yours not book you a nice dinner with some spunky sheila? Or maybe hisself? ‘Course the dog-faced bastard would ‘prolly take you to some fancy-ass place for suits, but it’s the thought that’d count, yeah?”

Lúcio laughed. “I gave Brenner the week off so he could fly home and surprise his partner. Besides, if I wanted to date women I could be be surrounded by any number of them right now.”

The gravel protested as Junkrat rolled on his back and grinned up at him, looking like a punk rocker in his leather jacket, hoodie, and tattered jeans. “Oh. Well, hey, what if it was me you was going to dinner with?”

Lúcio laughed again, rubbing his upper arm as he looked out over Oslo. “W-what makes you think I’d want that?”

Junkrat laughed, pulling himself up to sit with half-folded legs as he picked at the gravel stuck in his knee. “Well, ya said I was cute back in Amsterdam.” Resting his elbows on his knees, he shot a smile at his friend. “Yeah, ya may’ve been a bit toked up at the time, but I still remember it. Warmed the cockles of me heart, it did.”

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Lúcio gave him an appraising look. “How do you even remember that? You were off your ass on something some lady gave you in the back alley.”

His gold teeth gleamed in the moonlight as he laughed, leaving Lúcio struck again by just how handsome Junkrat was when his smile was real. “Oh, right, that sheila. Right fucking mad cunt she was. _Haha!_ Hooley dooley, was she fun.” Reaching over, he cuffed Lúcio on the knee. “But, hey, it takes more’n just a line or two ta make my brain go all screwy. Well, screwier’n usual. _Heh_. Anywho, fact of the matter is you said I was cute. And, hey, wanna know a secret?”

Sitting with his back against the concrete again, Lúcio tilted his head towards Junkrat. “What?”

“You’re cute too.”

Lúcio pressed his lips together in a vain attempt to hide his smile. “So, what, this is your way of asking me on a date?”

“Nah.” Junkrat scratched his nose with his thumb as he moved to sit beside him. “Well, technically yes, but I’m really kinda hoping I've guessed the right answer. ‘Cause it’d be fucking daft if I climbed a, what, thirty storey building only ta be told ‘ah nah, mate, soz, but I don’t go for gangly derros’ or something like that.”

“It’s twenty-six stories. And you’re right, that would be daft.”

Junkrat’s smile faltered. “Ah,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “W-well, I s’pose I should’a texted ya first, but my burner got wet when we was crossing —”

“We going anywhere?”

“— and I’ve not had a chance ta, wait, what?” Junkrat blinked at him, breath frosting easily from his open mouth.

“We going anywhere on our date,” Lúcio asked, shifting so his arm was pressed against Junkrat’s.

Junkrat laughed, eyes wrinkling in mirth as his fingers interlaced with Lúcio’s. “Well, see that’s the second part of why it’d’ve been daft if you’d said no.”

Lúcio’s face wrinkled in confusion. “Why?”

Holding up the bulging bag, Junkrat said, “ ‘Cause I’ve got dinner right here.”

Grabbing the bag with narrowed eyes, Lúcio pulled it into his lap and opened the zipper.

“How did you find _churrascaria_ in Oslo? And where did you even get this candlestick…” Lúcio paused, hefting one in his hand. “Oh, my god, is this real gold?”

Plucking the candlestick away, Junkrat set it on the ground before them and pulled out a tea light. “Yes, and I got it from some museum in Berlin.”

“… _You’re_ the one who stole from the fine arts museum,” Lúcio hissed as Junkrat snapped his fingers together over the wick.

He shrugged, moving away from the now lit candle. “Yeah, like you'd not figured that one out already.”

Chuckling, Lúcio shook his head and pulled out the styrofoam boxes laden with grilled meat, sausages, pineapple, tropiero… all dishes that he had been missing since he’d left home. “You do know I’ll be keeping that and returning it anonymously, yeah?”

“Eh, I figured,” Junkrat said with a wry smirk, pulling out two plastic cups. “It’ll be fun ta see whether security‘s gotten any better.” At Lúcio’s look, he giggled and held a hand to his heart. “I swear on me bones I’ll leave a ransom note this time and not kill anyone what don’t try ta kill me first, ‘kay? No promises ‘bout Roadhog, though.”

A bottle clinked at the bottom of the bag. Lúcio laughed as he drew it out, still looking at Junkrat. “Sometimes I wonder why I like you so much.”

Junkrat’s delighted smile gleamed in the candlelight. “Well, Lúca, first off I’ve got what some would call a prize-winning personality, not ta mention this handsome mug.” He laughed, hooking a thumb towards himself as he pulled a bottle opener out of his pocket. “And then there’s all that raw sexual energy ta consider.”

Clutching the bottle in both hands, Lúcio burst into laughter as Junkrat waggled his bushy brows. “We’re not even halfway into the beginning our first real date and you’re already talking about sex.”

Junkrat leant his head back on the half-wall, brow furrowed and mouth pursed. “Yeah, well… I mean, all them movies always make Valentine’s Day out ta be some kinda sappy, romantic bullshit, or some such bollocks, but they also all tend ta end with rooting that special someone what makes your heart go all funny. And this’ll be my first Valentine’s Day where… feelings actually come into the rooting, assuming that it happens. So, yeah, I _am_ kinda _hoping_ that’s where it ends up.”

He paused, looking up at the stars. After a moment, he chuckled. “ ‘Course, we don’t gotta do nothing ya don’t wanna do.”

Lúcio’s smile was definitely the kind you’d find in a sappy, romantic bullshit-type film. Leaning over, he brushed a kiss over Junkrat’s cheekbone. His hand shot up as Lúcio moved away, his amber eyes filled with elated shock as he touched his face. “Why don’t we see where the night ends up, yeah?”

Junkrat’s gold teeth looked like fire in the candlelight. “Too right, Lúca!”

“Could I have that bottle opener now,” Lúcio replied, looking up at Junkrat with an amused grin. He laughed, pressing the requested item into the proffered hand.

Lúcio turned the bottle over in his hands, reading the label out of curiosity. “Holy shit, Jamison,” he said suddenly. “You got this?!”

“What?” Junkrat scrambled to sit up, hand planting in the gravel as he leant over to read the label too. “Did I grab the wrong type? I remembered you saying something ‘bout the colour being important, but I couldn’t remember which ya said was best for drinking straight, and —”

“You got _cachaça ouro_ …” Reading the label closer, Lúcio let out a low whistle. “ _E… É envelhecido em jequitibá_ …” Letting the bottle drop into his lap, he gaped at his date. “You got one of the most expensive kinds of _cachaça_. Here. In Oslo.” Laughing, he held a hand to his forehead in wonder. “We’re in fucking Norway, man. This stuff is hard to get in Peru. How.”

Junkrat just smiled and tapped his nose. “A good thief never reveals his secrets.” He paused, looking to the side with his hand still curled before his face. “Wait, shit, I meant magician.”

Turning, Lúcio cupped Junkrat’s face in his hands. “Teach me your ways.”

Shooting him a smirk as his hands curled around Lúcio’s, Junkrat drawled out, “Well, alright. If ya insist. But, _heh_ , see I’d thought that you didn’t like stealing and depriving the world of good things.”

Lúcio snorted and answered in a sardonic drawl of his own. “There’s a difference between stealing from a museum and stealing from some exclusive restaurant. Don’t forget, I’ve led a revolution against the ‘suits,’ as you call them.”

“Oh, like I could forget that,” Junkrat replied, pulling Lúcio closer. “In fact, I was just thinking ‘bout how pretty the bombs what you ‘n yours set off down there were, and how ace it would be ta see the Vishkar building what’s right over there go up in fireworks.”

Lúcio hummed, leaning his forehead against Junkrat’s. “We can deal with Vishkar later. Along with all that raw sexual energy you got.” Then, with a quick peck on Junkrat’s lips, he moved back sporting a light grin. “After dinner, of course. I’m starving, and don’t want this food to get any colder.”

Junkrat looked slyly between the food containers Lúcio was opening and the man himself. “Well now you’ve got me hungry for lots’a things.” With a chuff of laughter, he reached into the pocket of his hoodie and drew out a trigger. “Anyway mate, I have got a plan ‘bout that Vishkar building. It was gonna figure into tonight one way or another - either as a way ta try and win you over, or as a gift. Soz it ain’t chocolates, or whatevs, but I think I’ve done good.”

Lúcio paused as Junkrat spoke, the steam from the boxes rising and carrying with it scents that reminded him of his grandmother’s kitchen. The offer dawned on him slowly, then all at once. His dreads fell across his back as he turned quickly to look at the building with that loathed logo that glared at him through the night.

It looked the same as it had the first time he saw it from his hotel room, an old symbol that spelled nothing to him but oppression and extortion. The trigger in Junkrat’s hand, however, spelled something new, dangerous, and exciting.

It would get rid of the Vishkar presence here so much faster than anything he could do with his music or words. Which was good. Lúcio knew he shouldn’t want it, but that light had been burning through his blinds since he had gotten to the hotel. Reminding him of the lights in the _favela_ and the endless march of patrolling boots.

Oh, how he wanted it gone. And here was the opportunity. Handed to him on a plate (or, rather, a banged up, rusting prosthetic).

But… the explosion could also kill people, people whose only crime was working in the wrong building…

“What about the people —”

“She’ll be right, mate, I made sure that it was empty of all janitorial and maintenance staff whilst I was planting the bombs. I even went outta me way ta learn the security folk’s routines. Even committed ‘em to memory, just for you. We’ve got —” Junkrat helped himself to Lúcio’s cell, plucking from his pocket “— twenty minutes ta wait for them ta make a switch. Window’s about two minutes, but that should be more’n enough.”

Lúcio threw his arms around Junkrat’s shoulders, knocking over the yet unopened bottle of _cachaça_. But neither of them cared as their lips met fervidly. Junkrat recovered quickly, the kiss growing deeper as they clutched at each other. When they moved apart, both men were smiling elatedly.

“I s’pose that’s a yes to the fireworks,” Junkrat whispered, free hand stroking Lúcio’s back idly.

Lúcio grabbed the trigger and his phone, looking at the lights excitedly. “You know it! Crack open that _cachaça_ , Jamie, and we’ll really get this party started.”

The _cachaça_ was smooth and sweet as it went down, the _churrascaria_ warm and familiar, the kiss Junkrat pulled him into wild, and the feeling of pressing that trigger and seeing another symbol of that despised enemy disappear into bright flashes of multicoloured lights indescribable.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Lúca,” Junkrat whispered against Lúcio’s lips as sirens rang out from the streets below.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Jamie.”


End file.
